Eighty Eight lines about Fourty Four Dead Guys
by Panther Nesmith
Summary: necrophilia, drug use, suicide, murder, all the fun things in life.
1. Why I don't write Scouge

Okay Steahl is to blame for this. Every last word of it. Okay, at least the part where Rogue's in Apocalyspe's tomb. The rest just sort of happened without my knowledge or permission. I'm a little frightened, but also a little pleased with the result.  
  
I own naught.  
  
***  
  
Scott fell slowly, as if the world had screeched into slow motion. Rogue watched it. The horror was swept away as a pair of strong arms grabbed her and hauled her out of the way. The owner of the arms and Rogue were caught in the perimeter of a large explosion that sent the building collapsing on itself. The arms tried to pull Rogue out with them. But something grabbed them, and neglected to see Rogue. She fell, smacking her head on the ground, rendering her unconscious.  
  
Rogue came to and found herself in a basement. The floor had given way. She saw that she had a large cut along her ribs, very deep and bleeding a lot.  
  
Rogue's uniform was useless for use as a bandage. So she wandered around the adjacent area, looking for a bandage, or a shirt, or clothing of some sort. She found Scott's body. It was miraculously untouched. Only the large gash in his head gave away the secret that he wasn't just sleeping.  
  
Rogue ripped his shirt off of him. His bare chest caught her undivided attention. She put his shirt down and ran a gloveless hand over his face. No pull of her powers. He was dead. Rogue explored his face, marveling in the feeling of his skin under hers. He was still warm.  
  
Rogue bound her wound, watching Scott's body carefully. She had never wanted to do this. Well, she had, but not with a dead guy. She wondered if the dark clothes had sunk into the inner core of her brain, and even dead men looked sexy now.  
  
Scott's body was twisted at a weird angle. Like his head had been on a pillow, and someone had pulled it away, and the head had tried to follow, dragging the body with it. Rogue straightened him out so he was laying flat. She'd never wanted someone so completely.  
  
It took minimal persuasion for a decision to be made. She may never get the chance to do this again. Rogue spread Scott's body out flat. It was hard to do without his help. She stripped the remains of his uniform off as well. He lay naked and prone under Rogue's lustful gaze.  
  
Jean was trying to get in to look for Scott. Logan wasn't letting her. He'd had to be dragged out by Colossus when Rogue had been hurt. Now he was watching for any sign of movement without much hope.  
  
Rogue wondered how she would get Scott's body to cooperate. Arousal was caused by blood pressure, Hank's psyche pointed out. This knowledge did Rogue no good. But she knew about rigor mortis. Maybe it would aid her. It was supposed to set in quickly. So Rogue positioned Scott and waited, looking over herself for additional wounds. She also stripped and tried to imagine that Scott's eyes were following every move her body made in restless anticipation. That she was withholding some paradise from the man she wanted to have sex with.   
  
Eventually she got impatient rubbing her body for a deadman's amusement. Her hands kept straying to her vagina. She had tried to stop them, but now accepted they had a life of their own. She moved so that she was on top of Scott's body. This way, if he still wasn't ready for her to play with, she could allow her hands to do what they wanted, and pretend the hands were Scott's.  
  
Rogue found, to her pleasure, Scott's body fully ready for her to take. She leaned down and kissed his lips, realizing rigor mortis had given him lock jaw as well. It took a while, and a couple hard hits to Scott's jaw joint for Rogue to deepen the kiss. She explored his not quite warm mouth with her tongue, as her hands roamed over Scott's body.   
  
Her legs moved her down so she was rubbing her crotch against Scott's cold gonads. Rogue moaned slightly from the contact. She rubbed against him a few more times, then ground her hips onto him. She cried out, hissing a little. The angle she'd set him at was uncomfortable for laying on top of him.   
  
Rogue sat up and adjusted herself. She imagined Scott's hands caressing her stomach, breasts, thighs, everything he would have been able to reach, had he been alive.  
  
Logan watched as Jean stormed over to the pyramid. She'd demanded to go in, and t.k.ed Logan too far away to stop her. Gambit was catching up, saying that he couldn't leave two women in danger. Logan muttered about that, and projected his willingness to help locate the bodies. Jean used her telekinesis to pull Logan toward her and complete their search team.  
  
Logan heard a female moan. It had to be Rogue. He motioned for the others to follow him. He could now hear her breathing heavily. He couldn't smell very well, due to the dust, but he knew Rogue was alive. Soon Gambit and Jean could hear her too.  
  
They found Rogue on top of Scott. Gambit walked over first, partially to see if she was okay, and partially to see if she was really having sex.  
  
Jean rushed over to her, recognizing Scott's uniform close by. She was horrified of the thought of Scott touching anyone else. Logan was the only one who had a full grasp of the situation. He didn't want to see Rogue naked, and he didn't care if either was cheating on him. Only he remembered Rogue's powers. He understood what was happening.  
  
But he wasn't the only one for long. Remy noticed Scott wasn't moving very much. Make that at all. Jean was trying to make the image leave her mind, to not see Rogue and her man having sex like this.  
  
Rogue didn't notice the voyeurs at first, too caught up in her fantasy world, where a man who was only half Scott was laying under her, sweating and moaning, and whispering endearments that she knew he'd only ever said to her. The world was shattered when her ears caught Jean's sobbing.  
  
"My God," Jean cried, her hands over her mouth, trying to stop the sound. "Rogue?"  
  
Rogue looked at the others. Jean was aghast with horror. Remy looked disgusted and slightly lecherous. Logan simply looked. He didn't seem to be judging her at all. Rogue blushed and looked down. Scott's expression, which she had failed to note before, was one of pain. Rogue slowly stood up, trying to cover herself with her hands.  
  
Jean telekinetically lifted Scott's body, and Remy was talked out of his coat by Logan. They all left Apocalypses tomb, none of them speaking to or looking at each other. It was understood that no one need know. Scott would be remembered better, and Rogue would see more peace, if they didn't find out. Not even he professor could know.   
  
Logan was the one to come up with the lies. None of the others were capable of speech. Gambit didn't so much as look at anyone beside the acolytes, and Jean feigned exhaustion from carrying Scott. No one questioned Rogue about her attitude. They knew how she was.  
  
Rogue lay in her room. She was on the floor, looking up at her ceiling. The bed was neatly made, her room clean for once. She didn't want to leave more mess than necessary.   
  
A syringe of morphine laced, by her, with cyanide from Hank's lab (he used it for something or other, she was sure), lay on the floor next to her hand. Rogue fixed her gaze on the one imperfection in the ceiling. A hole, from when Evan had used the room. Small enough to be overlooked by a flustered Ororo, but enough that Rogue noticed it.   
  
Rogue picked the needle up, and looked at it apathetically for a minute or two. Finally, she decided to just do it. She slowly stuck the needle into her arm, averting her gaze back to the ceiling afterward, and staring at the hole that she always saw. Even when the lights were out, the hole on the ceiling was noticeable. She pushed the top of the needle down. The feeling of something cold entering her body registered itself, before a fuzzy feeling over came her.  
  
Rogue felt happier. She breathed deeper. It was so peaceful. Her lungs pulled in more oxygen. If she could only get enough air to enjoy the feeling. Her body didn't seem to realize she was breathing more easily than she had in recent memory. It insisted it was suffocating. A small bit of alarm crept into Rogue's consciousness. The professor, who had been monitoring for something like this since Rogue's power surge, noted it, before brushing it off as a small anxiety attack.  
  
Rogue watched the room go darker, and wondered what was happening. Wouldn't her sad, miserable hateful life pass before her eyes? Wouldn't there be a light, or darkness? No, just a fuzzy feeling, like the switch on her body had been set to low, and the same had been done to her mind. With neither a whimper nor a scream, and no regret, Rogue exhaled and died.  
  
***  
  
Yeah. Um, Happy Halloween!  
  
REVIEW!  
  
Peace, Love, and a bowlful of candy!  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	2. Autho'rs notes

I have been thinking about doing a series of vignettes with a common theme. Why would I degn to stick this announcment behind a story baout suicide and having sex with dead guys? . . .You'll see. I jus wanted a few thoughts, yano, stuff that may be fun to see. It is my goal to make at least half of these stories humorous. I have one in the works already, believe it or not.  
  
And Future Shock has been offlined for a while. I'll try to get it out around Christmas time, but no promises. However, I have something you'll find even more satisfying. A Series of Unfortunate Saturdays, part the Fifth. I'm almost done with chapter one. Will be up thursday or Saturday.  
  
Once again, a happy Halloween.  
  
I'm going as a faery!  
  
PAnther Nesmith 


	3. The Premature Burial Revisited

Hey all!  
  
I've decided to actually write at least one humorous necro fic. And here it is! It may just come off as disturbed. *shrugs* Eh, you already now I'm warped. I love the song title, eighty eight lines about fourty four women. I may do fourty four of these, if the mood takes me. Start buying straightjackets now.  
  
***  
  
It had been months since Rogue and Remy had left the institute. They had gotten very close to each other over the years between Remy's joining the X-men, and his leaving with Rogue for a better life. In fact, Remy was planning on asking Rogue to marry him. And Rogue had hinted at the fact that she'd say yes if he asked.  
  
Their lives were very close to perfect. Rogue had undergone a proceedure to rid herself of her powers. She had been very depressed at the time, and warned Remy that she either gained control or killed herself. Remy had handed her the car keys and told her to do which ever made her happier. That night she'd come home and fallen asleep in his arms, tracing his knuckles with her bare thumbs. Since then she'd explored much more than his hands.  
  
In fact, when this story begins, Remy is the one who's exploring. The two of them had always stopped short of actual sex. There were times when they would spend an entire night devoted to each other's pleasure, but they had never gone all the way. Rogue had said she wanted to wait to finish the act for when she was married.  
  
But Remy was having problems stopping himself. Rogue was having problems stopping him as well. The problems mainly stemmed from lack of cognant thought, due to being driven crazy by her lover's actions. Her moans said more than all those days when she swore she'd wait for the man she loved. She wasn't waiting anymore. There was no need.  
  
Remy wasn't exactly lucid himself. Little things were being overlooked in the search to give his woman what he was feeling. It was her first time, sure. But he'd had more than his share of women's first times, and knew how to make this fun for her.  
  
Remy was easing into Rogue, who gasped and moaned, biting her lip. It hurt, but Remy's kiss preoccupied her a bit, and his hands were distracting her enough.  
  
---  
  
Death watched passively. There are few things Death watches impassivley. Death has clinical precision that would put the most focused human to shame. Death was curious about the man about to need the scythe clutched in his skeltal hand. Curiosity was how Death faced many things, as they were usually only understandable from a mortal point of view.  
  
Remy had died and come back in years of service to the X-men. This made Death curious. Not that resurection was all the unfamiliar. Death had seen X-men come back to life. They were always less wary of the Apparition on their way back. But Remy had actually been marked for eternity.  
  
Death remembered walking onto the street and seeing Remy's soul leaning against a wall, smoking an astral cigarette and shuffling a deck of cards. He already had mastery over the dimenson he was in; which surprised Death, in as much as Death can be surprised.   
  
Remy had given Death a smile that would break hearts, if Death had possesed a heart. His first words had been, "So, Mort, y' comin' t' take me t' a better place?"  
  
The Apparition had told Remy that Death had no idea what the afterlife looked like. Remy shrugged, admitting that he was ignorant of the afterlife as well, laughing. _Laughing_. Death had been curious. But Death could see the look in the man's eyes. He was going to challenge Death to a game of chess or something similar for his life.  
  
Remy had begun flipping a card through his fingers and asked if Death knew how to play poker. Death had seen a few games in his time, usually before someone welched on a bet at the wrong time. Death knew very well how to get killed when you're a few hundred short, but not the general rules of the game. Remy watched Grim shake his head with a very wide grin.  
  
Remy had then gone through the formal request process, and then been allowed to play poker for his life. Remy won with an amazing hand.  
  
---  
  
Remy was sure Rogue could handle anything he tried now. She had even been close to an orgasm, which had surprised him. But when he tried to push it, Rogue had told him to stop. Not the embarrassed, 'I've just lost my virginity a little before schedule', stop he had been expecting, but a lustful, 'I don't mean stop completely, I mean stop doing that because I'm not quite ready yet'. So Remy had complied. He was now very close to an orgasm. His left arm had started hurting him a few minutes ago, so he was presed flat against Rogue, taking the pressure off his protesting limb.  
  
Rogue felt his body jerk, burrying him deeper into her. She gasped and cried out a little, but it was more surprise than pain.  
  
Remy smirked down at. . .the back of his own head. Not again.  
  
"Y' got de wors' timein', Mort." Remy said sulkily, shoving his hands into his newly formed trenchcoat pockets. Death didn't deign that with a response. "Y' could 'a' waited f'r when it wouldn' scare m' chere."  
  
As if in response, Rogue pushed Remy off and out of her, a little disturbed by his stillness. She saw his face, still orgasmic. But his body had stopped. In fact, he had stopped in general. Rogue checked his pulse, put her face in front of his mouth, trying to feel any sign of life. Then she tried to resusitate him.  
  
Remy watched her working at saving his life. "Deja vu, huh?"  
  
"i believe that would be the phrase." Death said, nodding. Remy noticed that Death's voice was different from when he'd died in battle.  
  
"Voice respond t' de violence of m' deat'?" Remy asked Grim, taking his eyes off his body. It would keep without him.  
  
"yes. it does. what delightful trick are you going to play on me this time to regain your life?"  
  
"Y' play pool?"  
  
---  
  
Rogue stood in front of the assembly. One side was full of theives and assasins. The former to pay their respects, the later to make sure he was really dead. Belladonna had even brought tools to remedy the situation if he wasn't.  
  
The other side was full of X-men. Even half the Brotherhood had shown up. John was melodramaticially yelling over Remy's body. Mystique was watching the body, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.  
  
Rogue cleared her throat, calling eveyone's attention to her. The distraught euligiezer took a drink of something brown and strong smelling (her third shot of it in almost ten minutes). She didn't stutter or slur her speach, even though, by rights, she shouldn't have been able to stand up.  
  
"We'ah all gathahed here today ta say good bye ta mah. . .consort, Remy Etienne LeBeau. Some of ya will be sad fo'a while that he's gone, and some of ya will be dancin' on his grave until the graveyard closes."  
  
A hoot from the direction of one fo the younger assasins distracted the eulogy. He was soon smacked by his mother and the ceremony continued.  
  
"Ah guess, what Ah really want ta say is, that Remy died doin' somethin' he loved. Me. Yep. Remy got exactly what he wanted, in the end." Rogue stepped out from behind the podium and went to the casket. "Remy, sugah, ya picked a piss po' time ta have a heart attack."  
  
There was coughing, and the sound of Mystique gritting her teeth filled the room. Soon everyone around her was running for the 'bathroom', and Raven was smiling sadistically at Remy's coffin.  
  
Rogue walked over to her mother, sat down, and proceeded to vomit, cry, and scream, all at once. Needless to say, things started to finish up aorund then.  
  
---  
  
Remy looked at the balls. They were perfectly aligned. He could make this shot! Remy grinned at Death, and proceeded to make the cleanest, nicest, prettiest finishing move of his career. Death watched, noting that Remy had, once again, won.  
  
Death made no sound, but picked up his scythe, looking at Remy carefully. "i will need to hit you around the chest, or you'll just be back here in an hour when your heart fails again. hold still."  
  
Remy did as he was told, barely flinching when the scythe ran through his body, handle first. Remy did, however, have his eyes shut tight.  
  
When Remy opened his eyes, he couldn't really tell. There was positively no light where he was. It smelled horrible. Of course it did, it had, until then, contianed a dead body. Remy suddenly realized he'd taken too long to beat Death. He was already buried. Sound from a stereo on top of his grave carried down, and Remy tried to get out of his coffin. The song was accompanied by the thuds from people danicng.  
  
"Great, I'm stuck in a damn box, people 'r' dancin' on me, an' I HATE DIS SONG!"  
  
***  
  
Happy Halloween again!  
  
REVIEW!  
  
Peace and Love,  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	4. Everytime a Bell Rings, a Shape Shifter ...

Hey All!  
  
Not sure if this un'll be funny or not. Letr's just play it by ear huh? I would like to thank Miranda and Chaotic Boredom (go bebs!) for the inspiration.  
  
Do you think, after seeing the previous two stories, that I own these people? I mean, the death, comign back, rivalries, Rogue desperate for touch. . .never mind.  
  
***  
  
Warren smiled at the cute little punk girl in front of him. She had a wave of purple hair cascading sexily over on side of her face. The effect was a little eighties, but it was fun none the less.  
  
Mystique smiled sexily up at the rich man running his hands over her nude thighs. He'd been easy to get in bed. Just a little assurance she found his wings sexy, which was the only non-lie she'd told him, and a few choice drugs in his drink. And suddenly he was falling over himself to strip her and ease his tension. Mystique groaned as he began working his hands down her body. Her fingers were laced in his wings, enjoying the feel of them under her fingers.  
  
Warren grinned at the girl. She had assured him she was over eighteen, so he was legally exempt. He was working her body, making things very enjoyable for her. Risty's hands were giving him a good wing massage as well. It was hard to find a woman who would have sex with a guy who looked like an angel.  
  
Mystique sat up and pushed Warren down, so his shoulders and wings hung over the edge of the bed. He also couldn't see from there. She pulled out a condom and unwrapped it. After making sure her one night stand was occupied with her groin rubbing his gonads lightly, she put a small amount of cyanide, which she had added a powder to to make gel-like, to the rubber, and unrolled it on him, which he found to be   
  
enjoyable. Mystique had to congratulate herself on that point. He would never suspect his end.  
  
Warren grinned at Risty, as she bent down to kiss him. He felt her nude body rubbing against every part of him. Then something happened. His breathing was increasing without any real reason. He'd been breathing heavily before, but now it felt like he was struggling just tog et air. Which he wasn't. His breathing was completely uninhibited.  
  
Mystique smiled and began to slowly guide Warren into her, almost laughing at his surprise as he died. His face was wide eyed, like he couldn't believe that Rosty hadn't noticed.  
  
"Call an ambulance. Can't breathe." Warren said, watchign little spots swim in front of his eyes. Risty laughed, drowning out any further please for help. She was no longer delicately guiding him, but was shoving her hips down on him, almost orgasmic. Not only from the sex, but from the feeling of absoloute power, that a man lay helpless beneath her, unable to get oxygen to his cells because of her cleverness.  
  
Warren lay still. Risty morphed into her actual form, finishing her orgasm. She lay her head down on Warren's still chest, tracing circles around his dead nipples.  
  
"Well, I've had a wonderful night Mister Worthington. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave now."  
  
Raven pulled ehrself off of him, and morphed into another woman. htis one a medium height woman with a supermodel's figure, and light skin and hair. A crisp english accent and a slightly higher voice intoned her next words, as an ugly, evil smile contorted her beautiful face.  
  
"But I want a souvenier."  
  
---  
  
Raven hummed to herself, looking over the newest adorenments for her room. The brotherhood house wasn't her only home, oh no. This one was decorated to her tastes. It was pretty tasteful too, with things in jars of formaldehyde the only indication as to what kind of woman occupied the room. Well, formerly.  
  
Raven laid the caterized wings on her bed. They really added to the decor. The white contrasted nicely with her rich purple bedding. Raven lay down in between the wings, running them over her nude body. She wondered what Irene would sa about them.  
  
"I'll just say they're sex toys." Raven said, before laughing wildly at the thought.  
  
***  
  
REVIEW!  
  
Peace and Love,  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	5. It was too Much to Hope for Rogue

Hey all!  
  
I'm not sure who this un'll involve, or what implement of necro I'll use. *ponders* So many choices. This may be slash. It's been in the back of my mind for a while and. . .*evil grin* I know who this'll be about!  
  
Just in case you're wondering, there is no continuity between stories, unless otherwise noted.  
  
Disclaimer-I own nothing.  
  
***  
  
Irene settleed onto the bed. She was so very very tired. The whole day had been so trying for her, and now the blond woman merely wanted to lay down and sleep.  
  
Raven walked into the room. No, Raven was about to. And something was going to happen when she did. The haze of a precognant fit over took Irene's senses, making her body grow taut.  
  
Raven walked into the room, this time in actuality. She saw her lover in the throes of a vision. They always hit like a seizure. Raven quickly went to Irene's side, holding her still until the vision subsided.  
  
When her powers ebbed again, Irene was trembling so badly she almost vibrated striaght off the bed. Raven held on tighter, wraping her arms around her lover's waist.  
  
Irene had seen something horrible. A life ending, so soon. But who's she could not be sure. Irene had only seen the sillouettes. They did her no good, as she had never seen the people in real life. But the male looked like he had a pair of curved sunglasses on.  
  
---  
  
Scott kissed Jean's neck. Jean smiled up at the ceiling, seemingly senseless. But Scott was too busy to care. He had felt her orgasm earlier, her body tensing, then relaxing totally. They had always done it like this, Jean first, then him. It wasn't terribly romantic, but it was how they made love.  
  
Scott nudged his way into Jean's body, scattering kisses over her face an neck. He may not have been the world's best lover, but he tried to be attentive. Jean continued to smile up at the ceiling.  
  
---  
  
Irene shuddered in horror. That anyone could do something like that, it was horrible. The woman had suffered from a psychic attack, and was lying dead. Yet the man was still. . .Irene shuddered again.   
  
Raven didn't know what to do for her lover. The attacks had been bad at times, but never this horrible. Irene had been very close to collapsing when she'd seen the fate in store for Rogue and Raven at the hands of Apocalypse. But she hadn't been this terror-struck.  
  
"Raven, I have to. . .do you know anyone who wears sunglasses at all times? A male."  
  
Raven narrowed her eyes. Irene couldn't mean that whatever horrible fate she was seeing was for Summers? But who else? Raven's expression swung to malicious delight.  
  
"As a matter of fact, I do.  
  
"I must speak with him."  
  
"I'll get my cell phone."  
  
---  
  
Rogue was doing her English homework when the phone rang. She lifted her tu-tone head and looked around her room. It was probably for Kitty. Except it was chrismas break. Almost the whole institute was with family.  
  
"Probably a telemarketah." ROgue said with a frown. But then another thought occured to her. "Ah wondah if he would know the phone numbah. . .Ah'm bein' dumb. Of course he ain't callin'."  
  
Rogue let the phone ring one more time before diving for it. She pulled the cordless of the hook, but her momentum hurtled her into the small table, sending her and the wayward phone stand crashing to the floor.  
  
"Ow. Ow. Ow. Hello?" Rogue said, trying to muffle her groans from the person on the other end.  
  
"Rogue?" the voice instantly registered with Rogue.  
  
"'Reenie?"  
  
"No time to explain Rogue. I must speak with Scott Summers. Hurry. It is very important. You'll know why soon enough."  
  
"Scott's in his room-"  
  
Irene cut her off. "_Now_, child."  
  
Rogue had only disobeyed that voice once. That voice was only used when something desperatly serious was about to happen. That voice had told her not to go to that club. ROgue ran to Scott's room with the phone.  
  
---  
  
Scott pulled out of Jean. She was smiling up at the ceiling. Scott rolled off of her and lay down next to her. He almost fell asleep that way.  
  
Jean looked down at her body, and Scott next to it, post orgasmic. She forwned, her astral forehead wrinkling in an unflattering way. But she knew how Scott was, so she let it go. But Oooooh would he hear about it later.  
  
Jean's self, soul, whatever, plunged back into her body. Just before Scott fell asleep, Jean wrapped her arms around him and Rogue burst through the door.  
  
---  
  
Irene heard the arguing. Rogue screamed 'Oh Mah Gawd'. Irene realized she'd waited too long. Raven saw her lover's expression and could barely contain her glee. This was priceless!  
  
"I am afraid I was too late." Irene said, sadly hanging up the phone.  
  
---  
  
"Oh mah Gawd!" Rogue said, immediatly sorry she'd burst in.  
  
Scott and Jean struggled to cover themselves up as Rogue backed out. Jean tried to telepathically cover her tracks. But the psychic attack had made her telepathy short out.  
  
Rogue stopped in the hall, suddenly realizing the great potential this had.  
  
"Ah'm so tellin' the prof."  
  
With that, Rogue bolted for Xavier's office, a nude Scott and Jean in hot pursuit.  
  
***  
  
Okay, so the stiff wasn't a guy this time. Sue me. I thought it was kinda funny.  
  
There's a stranger speaks outside her door, says, "Take what you can from your dreams. Make them as real as anything, it'll take the work out of the REVIEW!"  
  
Peace and Love,  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	6. Asylum

Hey all!  
  
I have this weird little bug at the back of my mind. it won't let me be until I write somehting. So I thought I'd pull another necro story out of my arse. Be afraid. Be very afraid.  
  
Disclaimer-I own nothing.  
  
***  
  
John lounged on the BoM couch. He was listening to the sounds of Wanda realizing what her father had done to her, and how he'd tried to cover it up. It was better than cable.   
  
Lance was on his way out. Fred was tagging along, while Todd seemed torn between getting the hell out, and helping his sugar bear. Fred grabbed the back of shirt, making the decision for him.  
  
Pietro zipped out. He sure as hell wasn't going to stick around. Wanda had forgotten that she didn't really like Pietro in all her fury over Magneto, and Pietro preffered to keep it that way until he was a couple states away.  
  
Wanda stormed down the steps,her powers reacting to her anger so badly the stairway warped. By this time John wanted to watch ehr go crazy,a dn was on his way to the stairs. He ran and caught Wanda, just before she landed face first on the floor.  
  
Wanda hexed John very very hard. Not because she didn't like him, even though she didn't, but because he was there. John dropped her, making her hex him again, this time asa reflex to landing on her ass. John fell down, smacking his head very hard against the stairs.  
  
Wanda began looking him over. John's breathing was shallow, his heart beat slowed. . .it looked like he was going to die. To save him the torment of a slow death, Wanda used her powers to kill him.  
  
Wanda looked at his dead body. He was really very good looking, when he shut up. The thought didn't surprise Wanda. With her memories fromthe psychiatic hospital back, she knew she'd one this before.  
  
Wanda used her powers to position John the right way. Then an idea hit her. She would show her father exactly how messed up she was. wanda grinned maliciously, hexing the carpet to put John into Lance's Jeep.  
  
Lance was trying to make his jeep cooperate when the carpet, and the cadaver, floated into his backseat. Lance turned and looked at JOhn's paling face. Without another word, Lance got out of his jeep and booked. Wanda wathced him run, laughing.  
  
---  
  
Piotr sulked around the lair. Magneto had alloweds JOhn to go tot eh brotherhood. Piotr was sure that the only reason for this was that John bugged the crap out of the master of magnetism.  
  
Suddenly the front door burst open. Piotr jerked his head upa dn looked at Wanda stormign in, followed by John. Remy stumbled out of his room, wearing a pair of boxers and a confused expression.  
  
"What de. . ? John?"  
  
Wanda hexed a pair of chairs over, and then the two remaning Acolytes into them, securing them with the chair's arms. She then hexed hte intercom system, so Magneto could hear.  
  
"Father! Come see what your lies have done to me!"  
  
Without any more hesitation, Wanda stripped, using her powers to do the same for John. Remy would have made a comment, but he knew better. Piotr had shut his eyes, and was singing something in Russian to himself, trying to block whatever Wanda was going to do from his mind.  
  
Magneto levitated into the front hall, a bit afraid of what Wanda would do. He had a thick magnetic sheild around himself.  
  
What he saw was Wanda, nude, straddling John' body, using her powers to control him, to manipulate his body. She was facing him, a vicious expression that would haunt him for a very long time replacing her former loving looks. She thrust her hips forward, taking John's cold, manhandled body into her own.  
  
Wanda moaned. She had never had sex with a living man. But back in the hospital, when she was old enough to realize what men were for, she'd seen the cadavers as practice dummies, somethign to perfect her sexual prowress on, before turning to the living breathing male population of the asylum.  
  
Wanda began using John's body to work herself, while Magneto watched in a sort of horror, not fully understanding. Was she holding him down with her powers? Magneto had no idea.  
  
"Father," Wanda moaned, looking sharply at Magneto while she used her powers to thrust John even harder into herself, his head rolling on the ground. "John died an hour ago." Wanda said, before groaning long and low, as she finally took John's whole length into herself. "I never found him attractive until after I killed him. See what you've done to me?"  
  
Magneto stared at Wanda in dull horror. He'd seen some very horrible things in his time, but this was the worst. His own daughter had killed a man, and was now using him as a large cumbersome pleasure toy.  
  
Wanda started to move faster, knowing she was very close to having an orgsm, and desperate to finish. She had forgotten about the men, except the secret exhibitionist in her who loved the fact that she was being watched.  
  
Remy and Piotr were both trying to get away, after discovering their chairs weren't securd to anything. Piotr was transforming into his metal self, and Remy was charging the chair. WHen both were free they ran. Not further into Magneto's lair, but out the window of an adjacent room. The considered their chances of living a lot better if they were under someone else's protection when Magneto and Wanda were done. Piotr drove, since Remy was still barefoot. the sped off to Xavier's school.  
  
Wanda's powers exploded when she came, blowing out the windows and doors around her, shoving Magneto against the far wall, incinerating John's corpse. Wanda knelt panting over a pile of ashes, shaking.  
  
"See what you've done?"  
  
***  
  
Angst really is fun. Huh, who knew?  
  
Closing time, this room won't be open until you REVIEW!  
  
Peace and Love,  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	7. BLowjobs can be Hazardous to your Health

And here's another necro! Yeah!  
  
The fat guy is Seven Sunningdale's creation. Just realize he's enourmous,a dn very unlucky, one of those fat guys surounded by leeches in miniskirts. I felt bad for him.  
  
Once again, not slash, which was the original plan.  
  
***  
  
Sergio smiled at the young blonde across from him. she had. . .interresting taste in clothes. but they showed off a lot of her young and very beautiful body, and that's all that he cared about as far as her clothes went. Other matters demanded more carfeul sellection.  
  
"So, why are we hanging out her?" Tabitha asked her new sugar daddy. "I don't want to sit here listening to that crappy violinist all night."  
  
"He is rather bad," Sergio said with a laugh.  
  
"Totally." Tabitha agreed, finishing the last of her dessert, licking her lips and spoon suggestively. Sergio shifted in his seat, watching her kips with a small smile. Not too many women bothered to flirt across the table with him.  
  
Sergio raised his hand, signalling the waiter serving their tabel to bring the check. "I must admit, not many women are as forward as you."  
  
"You don't like it?" Tabitha asked, pouting sexily.  
  
"No. I like it a lot. It makes me think of when I was a young man. I was a very popular man then. But now. . ." Sergio motioned to himself.  
  
"Your bill sir." The waiter cut in, trying to hand Sergio a small leather folder. Sergio didn't touch the bill, but handed the man a credit card. The waiter took it with no hessitation, and whisked himself away from the table.  
  
"So, what's your place look like?" Tabitha asked, anxious to change the subject. She didn't like to see anyone, especially her sugar daddy, unhappy.  
  
---  
  
Sergio looked up at Tabitha. He was completely nude. Tabitha was striping for him, touching him every now and then. Sergio was enjoying himself very much.  
  
Tabitha ran a hand up her nude body. Sergio sat up and ran his hand up the other side. Tabitha grabbed his hand and kissed his fingers, giving Sergio a sultry look.  
  
Sergio wrapped his hand around Tabitha's head, gently pulling her toward him. He stopped pulling her when her face was an inch from his.   
  
"I'm not used to waiting for what I want." Sergio said lustfully. Tabitha winced.  
  
"NO offence, but you have really bad breath." Tabitha said.  
  
Sergio looked sheepish for a second. "I'm sorry." Sergio reached into a drawer on his bedside table and pulled out a round christmas mint. He unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. Tabitha kissed him fully, playing with the mint. She pulled away and began looking her lover over.  
  
"Well well well. All of your assets are large." Tabitha said with a grin. Sergio laughed, holding the mint in his cheek sohe wouldn't choke.  
  
Tabitha ran a hand up Sergio's 'asset'. Sergio gasped, pulling hte mint into his trachea. His eyes watered, adn he tried to cough the mint up.  
  
Tabitha was kneeling in between Sergio's legs, working his penis with her hands. When he started to squirm in what Tabitha thought was pleasure, She began to wrap her mouth around him.  
  
Sergio's spots took on a vibrant red color. He decided to focus on hte pleasure instead of the asphyxiation. The world went black a second before he ejaculated into Tabitha's mouth.  
  
Tabitha slowly pulled her head back, swallowing when her tongue was free.  
  
"So, darling, care to return the favor?" Tabitha said, looking smuggly at Sergio's slack face.  
  
Tabitha stopped grinning when he didn't reply. She ran a hand over his face. Then she felt around his neck for a pulse, getting more and more frantic.  
  
Tabitha pulled her hand back, horrified. "Oh my God! He's dead? He can't be too dead, I mean, he just. . .but what if the body can still do that after death? Oh, God."  
  
Tabitha ran out of the room, screaming for help.  
  
***  
  
WHOOSH!  
  
REVIEW!  
  
Peace and love,  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	8. Adieu

Hey all!  
  
Okay, this isn't like most of the others. This one is close to the first in the series, but not quite that either.  
  
I'm not sure this is properly necro. But it does have someone die and another person physically attracted tot hem, so it still follows my formula, ergo it's placement here.  
  
***  
  
Remy crouched in the darker part of the alley. He as watching a potential victim. Since he was pretty much between teams at the moment, he had to eat someway. Not that he had to justify this to himself. What he was doing was as natural to him as breathing. A bit more difficult, of course, but sometimes not by much.  
  
The man was a very wealthy and reclusive millionaire. Remy watched the man's trenchcoat respond to the wind, though not nearly as much as it ought to. Remy shrugged it aside. It probably wasn't a very important detail.  
  
Warren sighed and called his driver again. [Why does this sort of thing always happen to me? I have money but it's tied up in trusts so I can't use it yet, I have wings but can't use them. . .this is really frustrating. Where the hell is Robert?]  
  
Sabretooth shoved the remains of the driver away. Magneto had heard that Warren was fighting with the X-men. Magneto knew he had to make an example of the rich brat. So he'd sent Sabretooth after him.  
  
Remy saw Sabretooth pounce on Warren. Instincts told him to stay put. But Remy didn't. He wasn't sure why, but Remy knew he should stop Warren from being killed.  
  
Sabretooth wasn't too busy with Warren to notice Remy the way that Remy's plan needed him to be. Sabretooth threw Remy back into the alley before tearing Warren's throat out.   
  
Sabretooth then slunk into the alley. Magneto had told both Sabretooth and Pyro, his only remaining acolytes, that if either Gambit or Colossus were found, they were not to survive the encounter. This was a command Sabretooth was happy to comply with.  
  
Remy watched Sabretooth, knowing that this fight would be for his life. That was another thing that was farily normal to Remy. He'd been expecting it since he'd left Magneto.  
  
What neither man was expecting was for Rogue to be with Warren, showing him her favorite coffee shop. When Rogue saw her semi-date for the night dead when she came back from the bathroom, she'd gotten very angry and had also gone a little insane.  
  
Rogue saw Sabretooth in the alley and decided that the big greasy man had to be taken down. Rgue stripped off both her gloves and put them in her pockets. The next thing she knew, she was screaming "YOU BASTAHD!" right before she tackled Sabretooth. Rogue had both arms stretched out in front of her, trying to make skin to skin contact.  
  
Sabretooth caught her arm and used her momentum to throw her into a wall. Sabretooth forgot about Remy, deciding Rogue would make a better victim.  
  
Remy watched the fight, stunned. He'd never seen someone Rogue's size fight so viciously. It wasn't until Rogue was thrown against the wall for a second time that Remy realized she needed help.  
  
Remy charged a bottle and hurled it at Sabretooth. Sabretooth turned on Remy, and would have taken his head off then and there if an ambulance hadn't arrived. With police behind it. Then the three of them noticed the screams and genreal panice at the mouth of the alley.  
  
Sabretooth got out of there, climbing a fire escape while the police went into the crowd of freaked out and caffeinated customers and tried to restore order. Remy scrambled over to see if Rogue was okay.  
  
She looked bad off. There were big bruises on her face. Remy cursed at himself for not realizing how hard she was being hit. She was a little out of it from the last knock to the head she'd taken.  
  
Remy pulled them both into the basement he'd been using for a home. Rogue didn't protest. Remy quickly made sure the door wouldn't open no matter what and went to check Rogue out fully.  
  
When he got there he saw that she was very pale. She was shaking, and looked very scared. Remy grabbed her hand without thinking. Rogue didn't even think about her powers. All she registered was the hand holding hers.  
  
"Ah don' wanna die." She said, and Remy shut off his empathy so he wouldn't feel her mind numbing fear anymore.  
  
"Shhh. It'll be okay, chere. Dere's 'n' ambulance out dere, I'll tell dem-"  
  
"They won't take me. Ah'm a mutant." Rogue pointed out. She then noticed that her bare hand was in his only semi-gloved one.  
  
"We'ah touchin'." She said, the shock making her fear go away a little. She noticed who's hand she was holding. "Ya know, Ah really need ta stay away from you."  
  
Remy had to conceed the point. He put Rogue's upper body in his lap, and began feeling for injuries. Rogue yelped when Remy touched her right side. He told her he had to check it out all the way and she nodded and clenched her teeth. Remy felt the ribs along her side. Two had been broken in.  
  
"Y' breathin' alright?' Remy asked. Rogue took an experimental deep breath.   
  
"Ah shoudln't entah a marathon right now, but yeah."  
  
Remy pushed Rogue's hair out of her face. Rogue leaned her face into his palm.  
  
"If mah head didn't hurt so damn much ah'd ask how Ah can touch." Rogue said. Remy began to check her head as well. She yelped when he put his hand lightly on the back.  
  
"Shhhh. 'S okay, chere. Prob'ly jes' a bump." Rogue tried to shake her head, but decided against it.  
  
"Ah don't think so. This hurts too much." Rogue said, her voice a little weak. Remy leaned down to be able to hear her. Rogue looked at his lips, almost entranced.  
  
"Ah don't wanna die like this." Rogue said, using her left hand to trace Remy's lips. Remy gently kissed her, supporting her body and head. Rogue grabbed a handful of his hair and deepened the kiss, a desperate and needful expression on her face.  
  
Remy felt her slow down. He pulled away, and Rogue tried to catch her breath a little. She was really laboring with it. Remy watched her wince as she breathed too deep.   
  
"One more. Ah need it so much. Help me forget." Rogue pleaded, before Remy kissed her again, this time starting off deep.   
  
Rogue moved her hand from Remy's hair to his neck, pulling him even closer to her. Remy felt her body go slightly limper. He pulled away from the kiss and waited. Rogue wasn't gasping for air the way she had been. Remy gently laid her down and closed her mouth. He looked at her face, musing about how she looked like she'd found some kind of peace.  
  
"Sleep well, chere." Remy kissed her forehead before going out to call the institute. htey'd know what to do with her.  
  
***  
  
I noticed I like to kill Warren a lot. Hmmmm.   
  
REVIEW!  
  
Peace and Love,  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	9. Rape

Hey all!  
  
Once again, we'll try the slash thing. I thinkt he fates are just against it. *sigh* well, here goes.  
  
***  
  
Sabretooth watched the going ons with satisfaction. The X-men had been forced to wear power inhibiting collars, as part of a new court ruling. Their cooperation with that decided the fate of mutant kind. So they were doing it, for the most part, with out complaint.  
  
Rogue had left the institute. No one expected to see her back anytime soon. She'd been going insane from the loss of her powers. Without her mental barriers, she'd been prey to the voices in her head, forced to carry out their every thought and whim.  
  
Sabretooth looked at the corpse he'd left brutalized back in the clearing. Rogue wasn't going to be back at the institute anytime soon at all.  
  
But Sabretooth had better prey to hunt than an insane teenage girl. He was after the kill he'd wanted to make for a very long time.  
  
---  
  
Logan never saw it coming. He was just going to go for a ride to clear his head when Sabretooth pulled him off his motorcycle. the fall on its own was brutal enough. Add on Sabretooth's weight and claws, the fight was over fairly soon.  
  
Logan lay next to the side fo the road. He had a very bloody wound on his neck. He would die, but not for a few minutes.  
  
Sabretooth grinned feindishly and ripped Logan's clothes off, before dragging him farther into the woods. Into the clearing where he'd killed Rogue. Logan went crazy when he saw her body, and tried to fight Sabretooth, to hurt him as much as possible.  
  
Sabretooth snarled and pushed Logan down, putting a knee on his back while holding his hands.  
  
"Look, runt," Sabretooth snarled. "You don't want to piss me off even more. I can make your last minutes very painful."  
  
Logan tried to fight harder, daring Sabretooth to hurt him.  
  
"Shoulda listened." Sabretooth said, before putting all his weight on Logan's wrists and moving his knee.  
  
Logan tried desperatly to seew hat Sabretooth was doing. But having the weight of a very large man in the middle of your back doesn't help you look around. Logan wasn't quite sure what was goin on until he heard a zipper.  
  
Logan started fighting harder. Sabretooth used both hands to keep him pinned. Logan's vision was starting to get fuzzy from the loss of blood. Sabretooth snarled and shoved his dick into Logan's ass.  
  
Logan growled in pain, but it was sort of a distant sound. He couldn't feel it as well as he ought to.  
  
Sabretooth pumped his hips, reveling in his power over the man under him. Sabretooth started to scratch Logan's back. Not kindly either. There were deep trenches of blood after every stroke.  
  
Sabretooth came powerfully, roaring in pleasure. He pulled out of Logan, his smile the stuff nightmares are born from.  
  
"Tagged you last, runt."  
  
***  
  
I did it! A slashy one! And it was rape. Hmmm. Well, this is a very dark subject. Next one will be funny, I promise.  
  
Your teeth when you grin reflecting names on REVIEWS!  
  
Peace and Love,  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	10. Flirting with Death

Hey all!  
  
This one should be funny. And I'm not sure if it's technically necro, but the image just won't leave me alone.   
  
***  
  
John looked around the nothing that he was suddenly in. It had a familiar feel to it. He sighed and realized that it didn't hurt to do so. So the virus had killed him, finally. At least he wouldn't have to put up witht he hospital food anymore.  
  
A figure appeared behind John, solemn and silent as the grave. John turned around and smiled, like a boyfriend who's picked his girl out of a crowd outside a restaurant.  
  
"I was wondering when you'd show up. Well, I've had a good, if short run." John said, calm as anything. Death didnt' bother him very much. And he had a plan to make his afterlife start out on a good foot.  
  
Very deep. I suppose you'll have questions. The Spector said, waiting paitently for the usual barage of theological questions. Here, in this minute just before true death, time was stopped for both Death and the soul. So Death always took the time to talk to the dead. It made them feel better.  
  
"Um, yeah. Are you single?" John blurted out. Death looked at him curiously.  
  
What? Death asked, quite sure it'd heard correctly, but not entirely sure what the mortal meant. Fortunatly for Death, John elaborated.  
  
"You know, is there a Mrs. Or Mr. Death I should look out for?" John asked, keeping extremely calm. This was actually kind of fun, when he thought about it. After all, how many people coudl say they'd actually flirted with Death?  
  
That's like asking a wall it's opinion on dentistry, it just doesn't make sense. Death said, not unkindly or annoyed. Anger was not an emotion that came to Death easily. Offense was unknown to the spector.  
  
"Yeah, but you know, times change. And I could be just the kind of change you're looking for. Lighten up your attitude. You know, the gothic thing is so overdone. Maybe people would be less apreensive to meet you if you were less scary." John said, gvign Death a very earnest look.  
  
Death looked at John, for the first time in his timeless exhistence, Death was disturbed. It was a new sensation, and not one Death particularly liked.  
  
Perhaps you should leave for the afterlife now. Death said, uncomfortably.  
  
John grabbed Death's skull and kissed it with as much passion as he could manage, fully intending to take the ruse to the bloody end.  
  
Death didn't recoil. Death did not know the meaning of 'recoil'. But it was not comfortable with the attention.  
  
You will be going to the afterlife NOW. Death said, using the voice that had struck fear in the hearts of mortals since the beginning of time and before.  
  
John took a step back, but then clung to Death's robes. "Don't leave me! Please! I love you!"  
  
Death pried John of off his robes with his scythe, and called for his horse. A hose so pale it made the most fantasticly white horse look dingy strode over to him. Death stroked the horse, before pointing at John.  
  
Take him to re-incarnation. I have a feeling the gods will be angry with me if I let him loose in their realm. Death instructed his horse.  
  
The horse nodded and picked John up before galloping off. John didn't have to hold on to keep from falling off. If the horse of Death decided you were going to ride on it, you didn't fall off.  
  
John laughed all the way to the re-incarnation depot. [St. John, old boy,] John thought to himself, [That was brilliant.]  
  
***  
  
That was fun.  
  
Ravens land upon her Review!  
  
Peace and Love,  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	11. Voltaire is Good

Hey All!  
  
Abaiisiia- If you don't like them, don't read them. And thanks for reviewing. ANd reading up to chapter eight when "THEY ALL SUCKED ASS, BITCH!aGAIN, WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU ?!?! yOU NEED TO GO aWAY! WHO WANTS TO READ THIS CRAP!?!" *grin* I live to piss people like you off.  
  
Chaos- Death has a gender? That's weird. I just don't think that makes sense. Neither does Death having a lover. Ah well. MArvel is weird in other ways too. John is awesome. You hazve to admit, sometimes the boy has solid brass balls.  
  
Star-of-Chaos- *nod* You do have to love Pyro. Thanks for the review!  
  
Ish- Glad you liked it. THat would be an awesome issue. "Stan Lee presents. . .NECROPHILIA!" I'd buy it. *nods*  
  
DemonRogue13- Thanks!  
  
Note  
  
Originally I had Todd in mind for this, but I was talking to Steahl at the time, and she thought Freddy would be a better pick. "Todd could get a date." were her exact words. SO I agreed, since I hadn't written Fred before.  
  
The song is Voltaire's 'Dead Girls'  
  
***  
  
A large cop approached the bench, under the prosecuting lawyer's direction. He looked both disgusted and nervous. He'd had a hand in catching a mutant that had argueably the most sheer power of any living being short of, maybe, a whale. He had reason to be nervous, in most people's opinion.  
  
  
  
*I have been in this line of work for a long time*  
  
  
  
"Could you please state your name and occupation for the court?" The prosecuting lawyer asked, looking smug behind the court podium. Freddy was sitting behind his lawyer in teh witness box. Lance and Todd were with him, trying to help Fred handle the proceedings. HE was a mess, and couldn't sit still. He'd been in jail for a week with a power negating collar on, and he was losing weight rapidly. though if this was from loss of his powers or nervousness over his future, no one could be sure.  
  
  
  
"Mike Harding, I'm a police officer."  
  
  
  
*And I have never seen anything so strange and so peculiar  
  
Its all so deranged*  
  
  
  
"Could you tell us, in your own words, Mr. Harding, what occured on the night of April 10th?"  
  
  
  
The police officer wet his lips with his tongue and started on his story, looking even more disgusted as he told what he'd seen.  
  
  
  
"It's the most horrible thing I've ever seen."  
  
  
  
*see for yourself  
  
Ladies and gentelmen of the jury  
  
step right up and see the freak*  
  
  
  
"I've seen some very depraved things too, mind you. Comes with the territory. I thought, until then, I'd seen every depravity that-"  
  
  
  
"Objection!" Fred's state appointed lawyer yelled, standing up. "The witness has a obvious bias against my client!"  
  
  
  
The judge mulled over the objection. He didn't ask the prosecuting attourney if he had a rebuttal. He turned and looked at the police officer.  
  
  
  
"I'd expect one of Bayville's finest to keep a more objective opinion. Sustained."  
  
  
  
The police officer muttered, but repeated his story, this time stickign, mostly, to the facts.  
  
  
  
*we caught him red handed down by the morgue   
  
where he sleeps   
  
and if you think that "That's disgusting"  
  
wait til you hear this  
  
I never can do it justice*  
  
  
  
"We got a call from the city morgue at four in the morning. I was in teh middle of my shift, cruising the nearby street with my aprtner. We headed over immediatly, of course, and investigated. we didnt' call for backup, because it didn't seem like that big a deal. I mean, why would someone break into the morgue? It had false alarm written a ll over it."  
  
  
  
Freddy shifted uncomfortably. He didn't want the others to hear what he'd been found doing. He knew there was no hope the cop wouldn't mention it. He started to chew his lips and wring his hands.  
  
  
  
"Anyway, me and my partner go intot eh morgue, and we see this huge guy in the cooler room." The cop stopped, and thought for a minute,t rying to place his words as best he knew how. "That's where they keept eh bodies, if you don't know. Anyway, we found this. . ."  
  
  
  
The prosectuting lawyer cut in, to help his witness out. "Young man?"  
  
  
  
"Monster. There's no other word for it, and that one's hardly bad enough." The police officer replied.  
  
  
  
Fred covered his ears as the rest of the story was being told, screwing his eyes tight shut and remembering hapier days, anything to get his mind off the court room. He wasn't ashamed of what he'd done, but he couldn't bear to hear anyone laugh at him. Or even worse, condem him. He hated being looked down upon, but even more he hated to be judged. He would make them see why he'd had to do what he'd done.  
  
  
  
*Dead girls like me  
  
Dead girls like me  
  
Can't you see?*  
  
  
  
A few minutes later, Freddy was asked to take the stand in defense of his insanity plea. He threw himself onto his feet and lumbered over to the stand, his lessened bulk still making it difficult for him to squeeze into the witness stand.  
  
  
  
The defense attourney smiled reasuringly at Fred. THe preliminaries were taken care of; name, age, education, etc.  
  
"Now, Fred, would you please tell the court, in your own words, what happened the night the police arrested you?" The defense attourney asked. Freddy nodded and cleared his throat.  
  
*I don't expect you to understand me  
  
I'm not an ordinary man*  
  
"I'm not tryin' to say that I'm not messed up. But you've got to look at it from my point of view." Freddy started, looking at the judge, hoping he looked honest.  
  
*and I have seen things with these eyes   
  
you'd never comprehend  
  
see for yourself now*  
  
"I've seen an' done thigns most people don't never see. Like the back end of a truck speeding toward from me. Scare the hell out of anyone else, but I'm not your normal person. Didn't bother me a bit." Fred said, a bit proud of his courage and refusal o be frightened by trucks that could flatten a man his size. NEver mind that they couldn't even scratch him.  
  
*take those living women   
  
they have never shown me any kindness of any kind  
  
its not my fault i look this way  
  
I try to talk to them  
  
they look at me and walk away*  
  
"But that don't neccisarily mean that women give a damn. I mean, you try getting a girl to give you the time of day when you're as big as I am. Hell, the only girl who ever gave me a kind word tried to kill me and got me attacked by her boy toy and a crazy goth chic."  
  
*so really is it so strange that*  
  
"I don't see why you're so surprised that I did that kind of thing. I mean, a guy can only take so much until he does somethign desperate. I couldn't even get a hooker to sleep with me."  
  
Todd heard Lance whisper "Mainly because we were all so damn broke we couldn't have paid her."  
  
Todd shooshed Lance, listening to his friend's confession. It was like a train wreck for him. But he was beginning to understand why his friend had done it.  
  
  
  
*dead girls like me  
  
can't you see?  
  
only dead girls like me  
  
oh, dead girls like me  
  
can't you see?*  
  
"So I was walkin' around, mindin' my own business when I see a bunch of guys beatin' on this girl. NOw, I'm no hero. I didn't give a fuck. But she said she'd do anything if they would just stop. So I decided that maybe bending my rules and being a hero just once would be a good idea. So I pull all the little punks off of her. BUt she was beaten real bad. So I kinda tried to clean her up a little, to see what she looked like. Her shirt was gone, and she either hadn't been wearing a bra, or one of the other guys had it."  
  
*only dead girls don't walk away from me  
  
sad as it seems*  
  
"So I kinda started feeling her up. I figured if she said no, I'd tell her that since I saved her, she had to sleep with me. But she never argued. She never said a word about me. I didn't figure out until I was already havin' sex with her that she was dead."  
  
  
  
*have you ever tasted love like this?  
  
cool and smooth*  
  
Freddy asked for water and his attourney gave him a cup. Freddy drained it before going on. "I know you think it's sick. But you'd never believe what it's really like."  
  
*have you ever been accepted unconditionaly?  
  
have you ever loved someone who didn't hurt you, didn't harm you?*  
  
"She didn't call me the Blob, or run away from me. She never called me a mutie freak, or tubbo, or anything like that. She just bled and got stiff. And that's where it began. I never killed nobody. I'm not that bad. I figured out where they keep bodies. I asked for a job. I got turned down. So I broke the lock and snuck in."  
  
  
  
*There's no pain and there's no pressure  
  
no humiliation  
  
there's no fear and there's no shame  
  
there's no pulse now is it so strange?*  
  
"Every girl in there accepted me, and didn't flinch when I petted her head, or pull away when I kissed her. I loved every single girl I saw. And they loved me back. I thought about stealing one, but I didn't want to have to share her with anyone else."  
  
  
  
*dead girls like me  
  
can't you see?  
  
only dead girls don't walk away from me  
  
sad as it seems*  
  
Freddy sighed and continued the retelling of his arrest, escape, re-arrest and collaring.  
  
***  
  
I've decided that I'm going to start a neurotic temptress like update notifier. If you review and ask for it, I will add you to a list that will be e-mailed when I update. You can request this for all my stories, or just your favorites.  
  
Dead girls REVIEW!  
  
Peace and Love,  
  
Panther Nesmith 


	12. Angel

Hey all!

I had this done and ready to go up before Halloween. But Livejournal, where I posted it originally, didn't save the Scott portion (I got the whole thing done, but the server blinked when I wrote it, so I ad to go back adn re-write it, and only had time for Rogue). So here it is, late, but in its entirety.

* * *

Warren glided through the clear, cloudless sky. The wind rushing over his wings made him feel powerful. Even more so when he remembered what he was on his way to do. A malicious smile played over his face, as he glided from hot air pocket to hot air pocket, in search of the prey he'd selected.  
  
Rogue stood in the clearing that Warren had told her about in his note. She held the note, perusing it in disgust. He told her loved her, adored her, couldn't live without her in that note. It was insane. The note was frightening. She was afraid if she didn't come to this meeting he might come after her. And that would not turn out well for eithe party. She just had to set him straight, and then avoid him at all costs. It probably wouldn't be too hard.  
  
In her paranoid state, Rogue was able to hear every sound made in the nearby woods. Which means that she heard Warren touch down, and turned to look at him, catching him a litlte off guard. He played it off well, though.  
  
"Rogue. Oh, thank heaven you came. Just seeing your beautiful face has made my wretched exhistence that much more bearable for now." Warren said. His angelic form, compounded with his innocent and earnest expression convinced Rogue of his act. And she settled down a bit. This was Warren, after all. He'd taken the name Angel. Warren could see the arguement in her eyes. Too bad she wasn't extremely religious, or she'd know that angels are not the nice things most people suppose them to be.  
  
"Warren, Ah. . . Ah think that maybe ya should try ta fo'get about me. Ya not in love, you're kinda scarry. Ah know that if you tried, you could stop this unhealthy desire."  
  
Warren smiled. Rogue backed away from him. It didn't take being a rabid fan of Edgar Allen Poe to realize that his smile meant no good was going to come of her.  
  
"Rogue, I've tried to stop. So many times. Why do you think Magneto wanted me? Not because I saved those people, for sure. He wanted me for my other skills." Warren said, still smiling. Rogue gave him a look that told him she was completly flummoxed. Which wsa a good thing.  
  
While she was trying to figure out what he was talking about, Warren lunged for her. He caught hold of her arm, and pulled her to the ground. She screamed in fear, and tried to struggle abck to her feet. Warren dug his knees into her armpits, pinning both her hands with one of his, while he pulled out a very sharp heavy duty knife.  
  
The first cut was always the hardest. He had to wiggle the knife around to get it in between her wrist bones, because he cuuldn't cut through the bone. He also had to make sure not to damage the hands. They were no good to him damaged, and there were no other hands that would be so soft and protceted, so mush like a china doll's.  
  
The fact that Rogue was making noises that no human being should be making was drowned out by his want. He was used to getting everything he wanted. His father had been disturbed by his wanting human parts, but had supplied him. But Warren prefered this way. It was more personal, and he also had less shame thrust upon him by his father, who wasn't even close enough to drive up and yell at him in person, even if the second Warren had been inclined to.  
  
When Warren finished one hand, he started immediatly on the other. Rogue was passing in and out of consciousness. Warren decided to just leave her to that. It did him no harm if she passed out, to be sure.  
  
Finally, both hands were free of their owner. Just seeing her lovely, small hands in his own made part of Warren twitch in joy. He leaned down and passionatly kissed Rogue, who was crying whenever she was conscious. He rubbed his body against hers, trying to do something about the feeling that always come over him during times like this.  
  
Rogue was soon freed of her clothing. Warren had never realized that a whole human body, when suitably bloodied, could be as sexy as parts of one. He unzipped his pants, and Rogue began pleading again. He Shushed her with another searing kiss, rubbing her bloody wrists against her body, spreading her blood all over her. Once Warren was free of his clothing, he began squeezing hte blood out of her arms, pouring it on her body, espeicaly below her waist. His entire body seemed to throb as he watched her blood run into her private parts. Her legs were gently parted, every movement made as gentle and easy as possible.  
  
Rogue was crying. The sound diminished Warren's pleasure. He clamped his mouth over hers one last time, before pushing himself into her tight body. The pull of her powers was weak, but it made her struggle less. It also fed her hte energy she needed to live. So while Warren pumped himself in and out of her no longer strugging body, Rogue not only felt his pleasure, but her dying slowed down.  
  
It wasn't long before Warren finished what he had started. Rogue was left dazed and whimpering when hewas done. Warren wiped himself off with a towel he'd had in a messenger bag,a dn put her hands in a ziploc bag. He re-dressed, noting that taking his clothes off to protect them had been a fairly useless gesture.  
  
Once Warren had himself, under control, he turned back to Rogue. He expected to see her in the throes of death. He felt a little woozy from having contact withher so lon, but surely she couldn't live off that. However, when he turned around, he saw that Rogue had not only not died, but gotten on her elbows and knees. She was trying to crawl away.  
  
Warren clicked his tongue, before grabbing Rogue by the waist. He gently pulled her onto her feet, before picking her up, maiden style. She cried out, but Warren paid no attention. He simply made his way to hte grave he'd dug for her.  
  
Rogue screamed when she saw the hole. Warren sighed and dropped her in. "This would be much simpler if you'd just die." He noted, his voice level, and slightly annoyed. He began shoveling dirt into the hole, while Rogue pleaded with him, telling him she really did love him the way he loved her, and how she'd be faithful to death if he let her live. Until Warren got tired of hearing her and shoveled dirt onto her face.  
  
That task done, Warren took to the skies agian, fingering the hands in his messenger bag, that familiar thrill running through his body again. Another success.

* * *

The winged socialite continued soaring through the sky until he spied somehting below him in the woods. A few claerings away from where Rogue had been raped and killed, Scott was sititng on a blanket, messing with a radio powered radio. Warren ran his fingers over the palms of the hands in his pocket, before swooping in to land behind Scott. The winged murderer pulled out a wire he kept in his bag for just such an occasion. He wrapped it around his knuckles, before hooking ti over Scott's throat.  
  
The surprised teenager fought as hard as he could. But Warren had height and preperation over Scott. Soon the younger man had passed out. Warren dug through his bag again, shaking off the feeling that he was being watched. No one else was here. Jean would have been on the blanket with the now unconscious X-man if she had been there. And that was the only danger Warren could think of in his frenzied state.  
  
He pulled out the knife he'd used on Rogue just as Scott woke up. It took two seconds for Scott to register what was going on. But those two seconds were too long. Before Scott could properly react, Warrenw as already slicing his face open, digging his knife down into the bones that lay under Scott's gums. The angelic serial killer was goign into a frenzy, huis cuts getting even deepre, and more cruel. Scott was screaming in pain and horror. But this only egged the other man on.  
  
Soon Scott had been relieved of his lips. Warren kissed them, before pulling out another plastic bag and carefully setting the lips inside them. Scott was screaming and crying, his voice distorted by blood, and hte sound even further distorted by his mouth deformity.  
  
Warren snapped out of his trance, before regarding Scott. The man did nothig for him, sexually; and beyond that, Warrenw as spent. However, he couldn't allow the young man to live. With a perturbed look, Warren pulled his knife back and dug it into Scott's chest, pulling down as viciously as he possibly could. The sound of bones crackig under his knife sent a thrill down Warren's spine, and he shuddered in pleasure. He pulled his knife out again, and planted it in Scott's stomache, splitting it with a quick motion of his hand. He could see Scott's organs, pink and supple. Warren reached into the hole he'd made in Scott, planting his knife in the man's leg. The way the blood flowed over his hands, the feeling of hte organs themselves, eventhe sting that told him he's knicked hte stomache and released hydrochloric acid made Warren hungry.  
  
Jean watched from a tree. She'd been told by Scott to meet him here. She hadn't known why, btu had been eager to find out. The redhead had arrived just when Scott had passed out. When she had dug into the angelic man's mind, she had seen the perverse pleasure h had. What he'd done to Rogue, what he'd planned for her boyfriend. Jean had wanted to pull out long before the point where Warren dug into her boyfriend's body, but she had been drawn, entranced. It wasn't until she pulled her mind out Warren's she realized she had shoved her hand down her shorts, adn was playing with her underwear. Jean let out a small sound of disgust, before hiding her face in her hands.  
  
Warren finished mutilating Scott's body, and stood up. The deceased man's internal organs were strewn all aroudn the body. Warren made sure he'd left no visible trace of his presence, and took to the sky again. No one would associate this murder with the elite socialite who lived in the swanky apartment building and gave to allt he charities he could. Most importantly, though, he had more parts for his growing collection.  
  
Jean couldn't help but let her midn wander back to Warren's. She felt his euphoria. He was flying, he was the top bird of prey, and he had carrion. It was a pleasant state of mind. He was so sure, and his mind practically invited hers to play in it. She looked up from her hands, puling her mind back, after pickign one final piece of infomaion from his brain: his address. She was goign to eb there for the celebration of hte kills. er entire body burned to go, and it was about time she heeded that burning.

* * *

'Even Angels Fall' is currently playing. Trippy, huh? Go look into the Cruxshadows! They rock!

But REVIEW first!

Peace and Love,

Panther Nesmith


	13. Inkubus

Hey all! 

This and the follwoing fic were writen for hte necro a while ago, but enver made it up because Iw as planing on doing soemthign else with the previous Warren plot. But I forget what. So these are based on the band name Inkubus Sukkubus. Listen to their music. It is good.

* * *

He watched his quarry weave through the crowd, never far from the center of energy. She laughed and flirted, and Remy could easily see what she was really doing. If left on her own, she would make the party seem like a library discussion in an hour. Her appetite was voracious, even for one of her kind. 

A smile snaked its way across Remy's face. He strode over tot eh woman, his best come hither expression in place. She noticed him, a fresh source of energy, a new dish to taste, before she saw him. Her expression nearly mirrored the man's. She strode over him, her step full of bounce, and her face contorted with laughter she couldn't contain, nor explain. This was such a rush. New Orleans during Mardi Gras was always replete with her kind, and it didn't dim the party one bit. It was so much fun to live again! It seemed like she was only ever alive for one night a year. So why not trouble one man more than others, to make her fly length life worthwhile?

The man ordered a drink for himself, and took a seat at the bar, turned to face his willing quarry. He loved New Orleans. He knew it like the back of his hand, and there was always plentiful bait, especially this time of year. No sulking around graveyards, or cruising the bars for most of the month. It was almost solid tourists, which was the way it ought to be. The beautiful women that drove his life were sometimes too willing to be any fun, but you could easily change that with a few rough words, and the right pressure on the right places.

Rogue set herself on a bar stool next to him, ordering her own drink before turning to him. "So, you live around here? Or you come here ta see them shootin' those stupid college girls showin' off their breasts?"

(I'm here to do more 'n dat t' a couple, chere.) the man thinks to himself, before replying. "I'm a local, actin' as a free-range tour guide. I c'n show y' all de pleasures of Nawlins, in a night y' won' ever f'get." He says, purposely thickening his accent, because he knows it'll impress her, and give him a few thin tendrils of lust to feed form, and because it will back his story up.

The woman grinned and laughed. "Lead the way, shugah. Ah'm sho' ya know some good views." (This is gonna be easier than I thought. I'll have to be careful not to kill him, since he's so willing to share.)

The man finished his drink, and offered his arm to the woman, who pushed her hair out of her face before accepting it. The motion forced Remy to look at her face for once, instead of her aura or body. He noticed she had the most unusual hair style he'd seen so far. It amused him. She wasn't even trying to blend in. It made her look even more innocent, to be so blatant. (Ah, the tangled webs we weave, neh, chere?)

The two left the club, and strolled through the city. Rogue kept trying to lead Remy to the more crowded parts, while Remy led her to the alleys, the back ways, the deserted parts, where other of his ilk lay in wait. He would have to beat them off, unless he thought of a tactic they wouldn't. . . a grin threatened to cross his face, but was checked.

"Chere, y' wan' t' see de bes' graveyards in Nawlins? Dey're a huge tourist attraction, but t'night, dey'll be empty, 'n' we c'n enjoy dem t'gether."

Rogue giggled, and eventually began laughing, the way a person who's drunk does. She nodded and smiled hard enough to break her face. "Ah'm game, sugah."

"Yes you are." Remy muttered. Luckily for him, the sound of Bourbon Street still covered anything said quieter than a scream.

The walk was long and winding. Remy kept building subtle amounts of lust. Nothing to make her want him to jump her, but enough to keep him sated until he could have the main course. Rogue was slowly gently draining him as well, just enough to get a taste, so he wouldn't overpower her and make here even crazier than usual.

True to Remy's word, the graveyard was empty. Rogue wandered around, taking in the breath of personality and life left by the inhabitants and the hoards of guests that had taken in the views. She laughed and turned toward Remy, ready to take him completely.

Remy reacted faster than her. When she turned, he tackled her, using his increased strength to hold her hands over her head in one of his, while the other tore at her clothing. His face was glowing with a fiendish light, and the screams of his victim made it even more thrilling, more of a rush. He buried his face in her breasts, biting one viciously, while his hand finished tearing away her ruined clothing.

Rogue began doing the only thing she could think to do. She turned her powers on him full strength, trying to take in his entire essence, to kill him and make this stop. Which succeeded. Soon the cold shell of what had been an incubus lay on the ground, hollow and useless.

But this shell was not alone. The psychic vampire was csceraming, writhing in horror. Somehow she hadn't realized what she'd been attacked by, hadn't seen the power. He was taking her over form inside. Better to have left her body to be ruined once, than to have him always in her mind, raping her over and over, his lust unquenchable. The pain became so horrible, she couldn't stay conscious. But to become unconscious was to put herself at his mercy.

The incubus laughed and pulled the psychic vampire farther into her mind, pulling away her mental blocks and defenses the way he'd disposed of her clothing.

* * *

Reveiw!

Peace and Love,

Panther Nesmith


	14. Sukkubus

The other half of Inkubus Sukkubus.

* * *

It was New Orleans during Spring Break. Remy watched all of the college students, relishing their first taste of freedom, or their second and third bites of that decadent fruit, looking for a likely candidate. The trick here was finding a girl innocent enough to fall for the trick, but not so innocent that she was sexually repressed.

His eyes landed on a girl who had dyed her hair bright red, with a streak of platinum blonde running down the center, topping the entire look off with black tips. Her clothing was a bit more conservative for the heat, and included quite a bit of black velvet. Remy chuckled and sidled up behind her, pondering how to take the situation in hand.

He didn't have to think long, because the woman turned and bumped into him after paying the corner vendor for her cheap souvenir to send to her bookworm roommate. Remy let out an undignified 'ooof' and hit the ground like he'd been shot. The woman gasped and helped him up, tucking her bric-a-brac in her coffin shaped purse.

"Ah'm so sorry! Ya okay? Ah'm sucha klutz sometimes." The woman said, her face wide with worry and surprise. Remy inwardly smirked. He usually didn't do goth chicks, but he couldn't resist this one. She was just too perfect for a one night stand. Just looking at her body made him think of darkened rooms and satin sheets.

Through all this fantasizing, he managed to keep his mind in business mode. "N'est rien, ma cherie." He said with enough charm to make an old woman blush. He noted with some amusement that if she did blush, he couldn't see it through her makeup, but she certainly did giggle in a way that threatened to make him loose control of his body.

"Ah must say, if ya don't speak English, then there wasn't much point in ya sneaking up on me, savvy?" The other woman drawled, flipping her multicolor hair over her shoulder. Remy smirked and chuckled.

"Pardonne-moi, cherie. Je parle Anglais, mais, j'adore francais." He explained, bowing slightly and kissing her hand. "My name's Remy. What's yours, Cherie?" He rubbed the satin that made up her gloves as if he were trying to warm her fingertips. A smirk threatened to break his façade when he watched his prey's eyes widen and felt her hand curl around his tighter.

"Come to mah hotel room. Ah'll tell ya whatevah ya need ta know, mah beautiful stranger." She replied in a husky southern accent that made his lower extremities twitch, watching her body sway in just the right way to give him a flash f her paper white breasts, her hips swaying enough while she spoke to draw his attention between her cleavage and her waist.

Remy didn't know how he lost track f time and space, but he suddenly found himself in a hotel room, watching his stranger sliding her gloves down her arms. He'd already, he noted after a moment of confusion, discarded his clothing, and was standing in a semi-stupor as the woman gave him a witchy, devious smile, grabbing his hands and running them up her body, until he was cupping both of her breasts, still restrained by a deep dark red bra that felt like satin. He could hardly do anything but watch from behind his eyes as his mouth lowered t taste her flesh, his fingers gently freeing one of her breasts from its confines.

She moaned in pleasure as his lips brushed her nipple, followed by his tongue. Soon, after another, shorter, black out period, Remy found himself not only sucking at her breast the way a child would, removing her panties, her long black skirt already throw into a corner of the room. He could smell her physical arousal, and hear her s closely resembled whimpering. He realized that her hands were rubbing the inside of his thighs, and every now and then she would brush her fingers over his testicles, making him whimper as well.

Remy pushed the woman on her back when he'd removed her panties and broke his lips away form her nipple, replacing them on her mouth. She kissed him back, putting all of her passion and lust into that single solitary motion making his erection twitch with a new wave of lust. His body followed her lead with not a single thought of doing otherwise when she guided his eager erection into her slick vagina.

All the practiced subtlety that Remy had perfected over he years of spring breaks and mardi gras evaporated when he penetrated her, and soon he was thrusting into her with all his might, trying to bury himself as deep within her as he could, his own animal desire overriding ever other thing in existence. This lust overtook him so completely tat he hardly noticed when the woman pushed him on his back and began to ride him instead. He couldn't find his way out of the lust even when he felt the slow pull of his energy, his very being sucked out through his penis. He did hear her laugh. A high cold, harsh sound, and had the faint impression of dark brown wings protruding from her back and a set of thin, single pointed horns growing from her temples before his body stopped completely, his last breath a shuddering grunt as he ejaculated into the demon's ever hungry body.

* * *

Reveiw!

Peace and Love,

Panther Nesmith


End file.
